


Noticed

by tal_5



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Arguing, Awkward Romance, Comfort/Angst, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tal_5/pseuds/tal_5
Summary: Roman frowns, voice noticeably quieter as he asks, “Is something wrong?”“Is something wrong?” Virgil repeats, tone incredulous enough to startle Roman and make him take a step back. “Are you kidding me? You disappeared without saying a word to anyone!”When Roman leaves for a week without a word, Virgil doesn't plan on letting it slide.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Prinxiety
Comments: 11
Kudos: 128





	Noticed

**Author's Note:**

> got the prompt 'breaking the kiss to say something and murmuring into each other's mouths' in my asks, and this is the result!

Virgil sits on the couch, silently stewing.

Although he’s facing the television set, his ears are perked up, listening for any sign of life from a certain fanciful side’s room. On the armchair to his right, Logan reads a mystery novel, expression as flat as it always is when a book has him hooked. Though, part of Virgil believes he’s distracting himself from the clear absence of red socks that would usually be kicking him from the main couch.

There’s the clatter of cutlery in the kitchen as Patton quite obviously distracts himself with baking, the scent of cookies wafting into the common room. Virgil hugs his legs tighter to his chest, focusing intently on the coffee table to keep the lump in his throat exactly where it is.

Without any warning, the door behind them swings open and hits the wall with a loud _‘thump’_ , acquiring the attention of both Logan and Virgil, who spin sharply towards the sound. Roman strides in, grin wide and eyes bright as he shuts his door. 

“I’m back!” he calls, pushing his hair to the side of his face and turning towards the common room.

Once he notices the stares he’s getting, he stops short, brows furrowing and grin flattening down into a confused line. Virgil almost feels a touch of satisfaction at the concern on Roman’s face, but the hurt overrides his desire for some sort of payback.

Roman frowns, voice noticeably quieter as he asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong?” Virgil repeats, tone incredulous enough to startle Roman and make him take a step back. “Are you kidding me? You disappeared without saying a word to _anyone_!”

Beside him, Logan presses his lips together, searching the room for an exit before getting to his feet and making his way towards the stairs. On his way up, he pats Roman’s shoulder and offers him a brief smile, muttering, “Good to see you, Roman.”

For a moment, Roman can only watch as Logan ascends the stairs, jaw slack as he tries to think of something to say. Virgil, on the other hand, has been waiting for this all week.

“You’ve been gone for a week,” he says, voice strained as the lump in his throat grows three sizes. “We didn’t even know where you were, let alone whether you were okay! What if you’d gotten hurt?! Anything could have happened!”

Roman stammers, “I just- You would know if- if something was wrong.”

Virgil throws himself up from his spot on the couch and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “That’s not the point! We were worried sick!”

“You were?”

He sounds so surprised that it wipes Virgil’s mind blank, stops him short, and allows him to reevaluate what points he wants to get across. Swallowing nervously, he nods, brows knitted together. “Of course we were. Why wouldn’t we?”

With a shrug too loose to be casual, Roman sways on his feet. “I mean,” he starts softly, “I didn’t think you would notice.”

“Well, we did,” Virgil replies, throat tight.

The anxiety of the week finally catches up with him and he blinks rapidly, hiding his eyes beneath his bangs and cursing lowly to himself. Roman quickly walks up to him and takes his forearms in a gentle grip, pulling him close enough to see through the hair hanging over his eyes. He spots tear tracks interrupting the dark makeup under his eyes, a glossy brown gaze avoiding his, and wet lashes spotting what looks like mascara on his lids.

“Whoa, hey,” he whispers, brushing the hair out of Virgil’s eyes and stifling a gasp at the sudden closeness, “I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, it was dumb, but you should be used to that by now.”

He laughs weakly, but that only seems to pull more tears from Virgil’s eyes.

Wiping his face on his sleeve, Virgil shakes his head and says, “You’re not dumb. A little thoughtless sometimes, but even then, you mean well. And this time,” he sighs as the feeling of tears hits him again more forcefully than before, “we shouldn’t have made you feel like we wouldn’t notice if you were gone.”

“That’s not your fault,” Roman murmurs, wiping the dampness under Virgil’s eye away, thumb now covered in black. “I promise, it’s not your fault, it’s... it’s just the way my brain works, I guess.”

Virgil’s bottom lip quivers before he sniffs and nods. “That sucks.”

“I know,” Roman laughs hollowly. “But, if it helps, you make it better.”

They both remain quiet for a short while, reminiscing over the same memory. Virgil standing by the stairs, slumped and hopeless, and Roman losing air as an epiphany slams into his chest like a freight train.

Lifting his head, Virgil smiles, leaning into the hand on his cheek. “I’m glad. You make me better, too.”

That isn’t quite what Roman said, but nevertheless, they both meant it that way.

Roman’s grin is warm, eyes fond, as he leans down to rest their foreheads together. Usually, such affection would send Virgil running for the hills, the nerves of contact turning every hug into a cage. This time, however, he’s concentrating too hard on slowing the speed of his heartbeat to think of leaving.

He gulps, the lump in his throat now gone, and attempts to speak. “I, uh... I’m glad you’re back, or whatever.”

Laughing lightly, Roman rolls his eyes. “Or whatever?”

“Shut up,” Virgil says, grinning.

“Make m⏤”

Roman cuts himself off, eyes growing wider as he processes what he was about to say. They stare for what feels like hours. Before either of them know what’s happening, they’re kissing, wrapped up in one another and pushing so close it feels like not even air can get between them.

So warm. Soft, but so clearly real, and deep enough to lose themselves. More than anything either of them have thought of in the past.

For a second, Roman pulls back, a twinge of guilt striking his chest. Virgil doesn’t move far, though, lips brushing his as he speaks. “I’m sorry for... not, uh...”

Virgil presses their lips together again, holding Roman closer before ending mumbling into his mouth, “It’s okay.”

They continue, Roman pushing Virgil to lean against the back of the couch, attempting to offer him a more comfortable position. Virgil smiles, breaking the kiss once again, though unintentionally, long enough for Roman to whisper, “I really... I mean, I’ve been⏤”

Again, he’s interrupted by Virgil drawing him back in, fingers travelling up to curl into his hair and body leaning into Roman’s. He pulls back a second later, smile painting his lips. “I know.”


End file.
